


Postponed

by FoxRafer



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-22
Updated: 2007-09-22
Packaged: 2017-10-21 21:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxRafer/pseuds/FoxRafer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for <a href="http://just-ann-now.livejournal.com/"><b>just_ann_now</b></a>; the first of my pay-it-forward gifts.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Postponed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [just_ann_now](https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_ann_now/gifts).



> Written for [**just_ann_now**](http://just-ann-now.livejournal.com/); the first of my pay-it-forward gifts.

Éomer rolled to his back and stretched in the tightly woven bed roll, the material lightly scratching his skin. Stars filled the sky above him, illuminating the encampment and scattering random patterns along the crags and outcroppings of rock surrounding them. He had felt constricted in his tent tonight and was glad to be free of its shelter. The hushed sounds of men and horses relaxed him and eased the stress from his neck and shoulders.

Predictably, his mind at rest drifted to Aragorn, the crystal clarity and intensity of his eyes replacing the stars. From their first encounter on the Rohan plains he had been able to conjure a vivid picture of the man at will. The handsome set of the ranger's jaw and the rare but striking smile are often forefront in his mind; the arresting eyes full of purpose and compassion electrifying to his senses. Éomer was instantly taken with Aragorn's strength and inherent regal bearing, later finding his intelligence and strategic mind incredibly compelling.

His desire doesn't embarrass or surprise him. It would be foolish to deny the physical need he feels for his brother-in-arms. What scares him is the emotional attachment, the sense that this goes beyond pure lust and ventures toward feelings he can ill afford, especially in battle.

The air was suddenly too thick around him, his thoughts contradictory to restfulness and refreshment. Éomer stood and quickly dressed in simple outer garments before heading away from the gathered forces, hoping to refocus on the task at hand.

# # #

Aragorn finally gave up on finding sleep. He threw the blankets off the cot in frustration and slowly swung his feet to the ground. Leaning forward, elbows on knees, he stared blindly at his folded hands, wondering how he had found himself in such an untenable position.

His heart had been given to Arwen years ago, but now he sensed its division as sharply as a finely honed blade. Despite his efforts to refute or deny it, he had fallen in love with Éomer, and the confusion in his soul tormented him. To carry two loves in his heart felt like a betrayal to both the elf and the warrior. Yet more so was the shame at his relief knowing Arwen had left Middle-earth leaving him free to find another if he so desired.

Despite conflicted emotions, Aragorn could no longer deny that Éomer had captured him, had stirred both a physical need and a soulful attachment that Aragorn could almost taste. There was no bitterness here, only a sweet ambrosial essence that tantalized and left him hungry for more.

Knowing sleep would elude him for the rest of the night, Aragorn pulled on his boots and left his tent needing to put some distance between him and the tension of the soldiers, hoping the fresh air would clear his head and provide new insights on the upcoming battle. He headed away from the cluster of tents, filling his pipe as he slowly walked along the far side of the bluff, head bowed deep in thought.

# # #

The light from the camp's fires began to dim as Aragorn walked further away from the center of the mountain refuge. He rounded a final rock formation on the far side of the tent line and abruptly found himself in front of the man who occupied his thoughts. Éomer did not seem to notice his presence and, caught off guard, Aragorn could not stop himself from a slow perusal of the handsome man before him.

The long muscular legs he had surreptitiously watched as they stalked across the field or gripped tight to a horse's flank. The broad chest he yearned to see stripped bare beneath his hands, to lay his head upon and be soothed into sleep. The strong shoulders squared for a challenge and capable of carrying any burden laid upon them. Finally his eyes trailed up to the handsome face, roughened from the fight but still open and giving.

Aragorn's breath caught in his throat as two hazel eyes pinned him in an appraising stare. Yet there was something softer, almost questioning, just beneath the surface, something that grew in intensity the longer they continued to look into each other's eyes. Mentally shaking himself from the spell he found himself in, Aragorn cleared his throat and took a hesitant step back.

"Were you seeking solitude, Éomer?"

"Not at all, my lord. I merely sought to enjoy the final moments of peace before the storm. I would be honored for you to join me."

They settled themselves along the rock face, leaning back against the stone as the smoke from their pipes wafted above their heads. Both felt frissons of energy spark between them, had recognized a comparable hunger in each other's eyes, but chose not to break the pre-dawn silence. The air could not cool the heat they shared as they moved imperceptibly closer with each passing minute.

Éomer snuffed out his pipe and blew a final smoky breath, seeing the first wisps of the sunrise on the horizon. "I know what you would say," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Aragorn shifted slightly so that he was angled toward Éomer and studied his profile. He saw his own thoughts reflected in the young man's face and sighed in both relief and regret. Slowly he raised a hand and gently caressed Éomer's cheek, who turned his head toward the soft touch. Quietly they spoke of deeply buried feelings: sadness, frustration, hope and devotion, in the end love overpowering any fears. But both knew that until Sauron was defeated what they truly yearned for could not come to pass. Éomer smiled, a gentle and sad expression, then clasped Aragorn's hand in his own.

"I know our path is full of trials, but we may both live to see the shadow lifted from this land. And when that day comes ..."

Éomer's throat constricted, choking his final words and unlocking the last of Aragorn's restraint. He took Éomer's face between his hands and kissed him, a quick, chaste brush of lips filled with more passion than the most ardent embrace. It burned a path directly to their souls, and ensnared them in a net first cast weeks ago. They rested their foreheads together for one final moment before breaking the spell, releasing one another and standing on now slightly shaky legs.

They did not have the luxury of time. Too many journeys lay before them, too many challenges to overcome. But as they returned to the awakening camp, they held fast to their secret promise. Sparing one last look and a surreptitious grip of hands, they parted for their respective duties, once more wearing mantles of responsibility now slightly stiffer and more constrained across the chest, and returned to the simple conviviality of comrades.


End file.
